


It's the Best Sex, Period.

by KassieProphet



Series: Mary Goore Stuff [5]
Category: Ghost (Sweden Band), Repugnant (Band)
Genre: Other, Period Sex, Reader-Insert, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, mentions of cunnilingus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:56:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23922703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KassieProphet/pseuds/KassieProphet
Summary: Tumblr Prompt:How do you think Mary Goore would be like in bed with a female (or trans male) S/O who’s on their period?
Relationships: Mary Goore/Reader
Series: Mary Goore Stuff [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1596607
Comments: 59
Kudos: 35





	It's the Best Sex, Period.

**Author's Note:**

> Dirty, messy, gross period sex

Mary loves blood AND he has a fluid kink—your period isn’t going to phase him one bit. In fact, you’ll probably have to stop him from going to town if you’re sore and uncomfortable and don’t want his attentions down there.

The first time, you’d put in a tampon, but he’d just tugged it out—why would you deprive him of the good stuff?! He’s not going to slurp up your bloody discharge, mind you … but he’d rather have the taste of you—metallic or otherwise—unfiltered as he eats you out, and he loves seeing his mouth and chin smeared with your blood afterwards.

Be prepared, because he _will_ try to kiss you as is. (If it squicks you out, he loves trolling you; if you’re into it—even better!)

In terms of fucking, he almost prefers it. If you’re up for it, he loves the extra wet squish as he fucks you. Who needs lube when there’s your blood to ease the way? Plus, you’re _extra_ sensitive down there during this time, and he’s always ready to make you cum hard. You know he’s into blood and gore and guts, and period viscera is no exception—he loves seeing your clots cling to his dick and mat in his pubic hair. In fact, he wants his curls as wet with your blood as possible so he can rub it in and spread it around. 

Don’t think too hard about why he’s thrilled to be covered in your blood.

You stopped warning him of your flow ages ago—he has his own tracker for your cycle, and he’ll crawl through your window if he has to, to get at that good shit.

He finds you writhing from the cramps, but he knows how to make you feel better. He climbs into bed with you, his hand traveling down to your folds. You’re already bleeding heavily, your thighs coated, but Mary wants you even juicier. He circles your already-sensitive clit, and you jerk at the shock of his touch. If you don’t want him shoving 2 fingers into you, tell him now!—he’ll slip them in, then pull them out so he can stare at the way his 2 digits slide against each other with your blood.

Mary can be pretty mercurial about sex—sometimes it’s all about his dick and how fast he can use your body to get off; other times it seems a point of pride to get _you_ off as much as possible. You at your most sensitive is definitely the latter. You’re whining from the period pain, but also now from the intense throb Mary is eking out of your clit with his clever fingers.

“I heard orgasms can ease cramps,” he breaths into your ear. “Let’s see how many it takes.”

You’re definitely torn: on one hand, all you want to do is be left in peace to bleed quietly; on the other—you know that if you can bear the oversensitivity, you could gain at least 10min of respite. It’s a painful sort of pleasure—more an easing of pain than good feelings. Mary revels in how you jerk and squirm against him as he brings you to climax again and again, your blood and slick mixing to coating both you and his hand. 

Once you’re panting and a mite more relaxed, that’s when Mary makes his move. There's still a dull discomfort, but the unrelenting throb has eased somewhat, and now you’re soft and open. Mary kicks off his jeans—he wants to make sure his thighs get coated. His dick has been hard since he saw your blood on his fingers, and now he coats it with your bloody slick before sliding it into you.

Usually he’s one to get to pounding into you right away, but now his back bows and his eyes close in a rapturous expression, a smile on his lips. You’re feeling gross and bloated, but at least you can always count on Mary to make you feel desirable. You moan and clench involuntarily around him, causing him to dig his grimy fingernails into your sides before he starts thrusting into you. 

He goes slowly at first, almost pulling all the way out before diving back in up to the hilt. After the first couple pumps, he looks down to where his dick is disappearing into your body and lets out a pleased grunt. It’s almost like you don’t exist while he’s watching, enthralled, as your bloody mucus coats his dick. He’s still Mary, though, so it’s not too long before he starts to speed up, his hips slapping hard into your body.

“ _Mary_ ,” you whine. You’re still pretty sore.

“Fuck. But you feel good.”

“Not so _hard_.”

Mary grumbles, but stops pounding into you at least. Now instead of deep, hard pounds, he’s fucking you with short, quick thrusts. His eyes are once again drawn to where his cock joins you.

“If I press down on your stomach, do you think more will squirt out of you?”

“Do you _want_ to lose your dick?”

“You’re no fucking fun. Oh _shit_ , but you’re _slick_.”

He’s panting at the strain of not letting go like he usually does, but you can feel his cock beginning to harden further. You glance down and muse that he already looks like he’s lost his dick with how much of your blood is now on his pelvis and upper thighs.

“You look like you’re covered in gore,” you say.

Mary moans, his fingers digging deeper.

“Fuck. I’m gonna bust in you.”

His hips stutter, and then he’s giving a sharp thrust into you with a hissed _Shit fuck_. You try not to laugh at his “O Face” as his hips jerk and twitch into you. He stays frozen like that for a minute—hands grasping, mouth gaping—before he falls off you to the side. Chest heaving, he lies for a moment with his arm over his eyes before he looks down at himself—from his hips down to the tips of his thighs, he’s covered in bloody mucus and clots. Reverently, he runs his fingertips through the mess, smearing it this way and that to his liking.

“Satisfied?” you ask wryly.

He looks back and you and grins wolfishly.

“I’m not leaving here until I can see my jizz mixed into what’s leaking out of you.”

His hand travels back down to in between your folds. 

“But I bet I can make you cum a few more times first.”


End file.
